


Sound Good?

by weallfalldowneventually



Category: The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Everyone Is Gay, Everything Hurts, How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, M/M, Sad Ending, The best kind of ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-02-07
Packaged: 2019-03-14 23:01:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13600275
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weallfalldowneventually/pseuds/weallfalldowneventually
Summary: "How about we don't go back? Sound good? I think it sounds pretty good." Newt says, breathlessly, eyes frantically looking for a way out.





	Sound Good?

**Author's Note:**

> Ah, character death, but it isn't gruesome and it's toward the end.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated!

"How about we don't go back? Sound good? I think it sounds pretty good." Newt says, breathlessly, eyes frantically looking for a way out. His eyes spot a potential exit, either they climb and risk the possibility of falling to their death, or they can stay and just hang with the cranks heading their way. 

The first option is much more appealing in Newt's opinion. 

Thomas, on the other hand, seems to be on a suicide mission as Newt swivels around to face him, only to find him running head first into the group of cranks coming their way. 

"Thomas! What are you doing?" Newt screams after him, feet already moving automatically towards Thomas' direction. "It isn't worth it," he yells, legs desperately trying to catch up to the other boy, heart racing and lungs burning. Fear crawls down his spine, making his legs shake, he supposes this is why he was never a runner. 

He sees Thomas take a dive, only a few feet from the angry looking cranks barreling towards them, and his throat constricts around his cry of his name. His breath catches and it feels as if his heart stops, but he never stops running towards him. If anything he pushes harder, faster, towards his friend. 

Thomas is up in an instant, eyes wide, frantic in a way Newt has only seen a few times. It brings a lump to his throat. 

"Let's go, now!" Thomas shouts, arms protectively holding onto a leather bag. He sprints to Newt, meeting him half way, "What's our plan, Newt?"

He chooses not to respond, both out of anger and fear, his blood is boiling and he isn't sure if it's the heat or because Thomas is so fucking stupid. He merely runs toward the rock, hoping he'll get the damn point. 

Thomas does, fixing the leather bag on to himself in a way that it won't fall, before he looks to Newt, "Well let's go," he says, eyes still a touch frantic as he let's his gaze wander between Newt and the cranks. 

"Don't rush me," Newt says, a bit of bitter spite laced into his voice despite his own frantic fear bubbling up in his chest. He tries to get his footing and his grip as best as he can, but the rock itself is almost to smooth to hold onto. After his failed second attempt of climbing he frantically looks to Thomas, "This isn't going to work."

He sees Thomas' face contort, anger, fear, and desperation all prevalent. "Okay, great, fucking great, we have about 20 cranks coming towards us and we're fucking stuck!" 

He feels the sweaty grip on his hand before he is being forcefully tugged away from the rock, legs stumbling after Thomas. He doesn't know where they're running to, or simply if they're just running away, but he trusts Thomas enough to not ask questions. 

He trusts him wholeheartedly with his life. He would go anywhere, do anything, sacrifice himself for this boy. 

And perhaps that means something more, but it's too scary of a thought to dwell on, so he just keeps running. What he really needs to do is focus on keeping one foot in front of the other and not tripping, he doesn't have time, nor can he afford to think of any feelings he might have for the stupid boy in front of him. 

He doesn't know how long they've been running for, but it's enough to make his legs burn and his lungs ache, before they finally begin to slow. Thomas' grip on his hand loosens, and despite the burning heat radiating down on them he misses the warmth of his hand.

"Okay, here's the plan," Thomas begins, he's breathless yet he's still pacing, Newt doesn't like that at all. "We have a pretty good lead, but nightfall is coming fast so we need to get out of this, hell hole."

Newt snorts, "A literal hell hole, nothing but shit and cranks in sight."

Thomas gives him the smallest smile, one that Newt hopes to god is only for him. "Do you trust me?"

"I guess." Completely, is what he means to say.

"Okay, because we're going to be doing something that you're probably not gonna like."

"When do I ever like your ideas?" Honestly, Newt has never really cared for anything Thomas has done, never liked how willing Thomas seemed to be to throw himself in harm's way. But then again, he's never been able to not follow Thomas, even when he knows he really shouldn't. 

Thomas squints at him, which only amuses Newt, "Well, go on, are you going to tell me this master plan of yours?"

Thomas rolls his eyes, but his demeanor is too stiff for Newts liking.

"We have to go through that building," Thomas points toward a crumbling, run down building, that's barely half standing. "More than likely it has stairs, which we can use to get higher and hopefully out of this damn fucking hole."

"Okay, let's get this straight, we're going into that decrypted building, that's most likely going to be crawling with cranks?"

"Well, yeah? I mean do you have any better ideas? It's a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation, Newt. We either wait here for the cranks on their way, or we try to fucking get out."

"Woah, Tommy, no need to to get so defensive," Newt says, stepping closer into Thomas space, before throwing an arm around his shoulders, "It sounds like a swell plan." Honestly it's making his stomach churn, hot, sour bile rising to scratch at the back of his throat, but he can't let it show. "We've done worse, right?"

Thomas looks hesitant, "Yes?" 

Newt shakes his head, leaning more into Thomas, "You always have the best pep talks," and before he can think to hard on it, he grabs at his hand. He laced his fingers with Thomas's before he gently pulls him along, "Let's go, the sun isn't going to be up for much longer."

They march their way in together, fingers interlaced and locked tight. Neither seem to acknowledge it, but both find comfort in the others tight grip. 

The sun is setting fast, faster than either anticipated which, shockingly enough, isn't very helpful in an already dark and powerless building. Newt is on high alert, ears picking up the slightest of sounds, he tries his hardest not to flinch whenever a floorboard squeaks. His attempts to remain as stoic as possible fail, quite badly as a few loose papers get blown at his feet by the warm air drifting in.

He notices Thomas stifle a laugh beside him. His fingers squeeze until they're almost painful around Thomas' in spite of him. He smiles in spite of himself, whenever he can lighten the other boys day, even if it's at his own expense, he thinks it's worth it.

Sweat trickles down his neck, and he genuinely doesn't know If the heat is affecting him, or of he's sweating because he's so afraid. "Oh boy, is it hot in here, or am I just terrified?" He calmly whispers, voice drifting over to Thomas, which causes another shake of his shoulders. He feels Thomas respond, fingers wiggling against his own, before they squeeze them gently. 

They continue their cautious walk through the building, eyes searching and ears straining, before they finally reach the stair case. 

"Ah ha, I told you, now all we have to do is climb these stairs, to, hopefully the top."

"Don't ah ha me yet, we still aren't out."

"Whatever, close enough." Thomas says, a smirk on his face, which only has Newt rolling his eyes.

"Alright, Tommy, whatever you say." 

He feels a little lighter, a little more relaxed as he goes to turn the knob with his free hand. 

His stomach drops the moment he does, and he feels like he goes a little lightheaded before he's being grounded by Thomas, the whispered 'fuck' under Thomas' breath bringing him back to reality. This time he's the first to run, all but dragging Thomas behind him.

He supposes he could have been a runner after all. 

But then, almost as if the mere thought of it jinxes him, he stumbles, ankle twisting in an unnatural position. He crashes to the floor almost bringing Thomas down with him, but, he being the runner he is narrowly misses the obstacle that is Newt. 

Newt wants to scream, not out of pain and not necessarily out of fear, but out of anger. They were so close. So fucking close, and he knows Thomas won't leave him. No matter how much he yells, or pleads, or begs for the boy to leave him.

He knows he just won't. 

So not only is he his own demise, he's going to be the reason why Thomas ends up dying as well.

And that really pisses him off. 

He feels a pair of arms grab beneath his own, hauling him up and snapping him out of his thoughts. "Can you run?" Newt has never wanted to punch Thomas more than in that moment.

"Do you think I can fucking run?"

"Well, you can fucking try, let's go," and with that he's being forced to move. His ankle screams in protest, but he forces himself to carry on, survival a pretty powerful driving force. He follows behind Thomas, gritting his teeth and stumbling forward is all that's on his mind, so when they come to a sudden stop he goes barreling into the others back, nearly toppling them both over. 

Thomas hisses under his breath, trying to steady them both while making the least amount of noise he possibly can. "Alright, plus side, we circled back around so we're close enough to the stair well that we can make a run for it, downside, you're hurt."

"I'm fine." Newt says through gritted teeth, vision blurring slightly at the burning pain radiating from his ankle. 

Thomas frowns, eyes drifting to Newts injured leg, before he takes the long forgotten leather bag from his body. "Take this."

This causes an involuntary snort to leave Newt, one he regrets immediately, "I'm injured and you want me to carry the bag, can you do nothing?" he jokes, eyeing Thomas wearily. 

"Just take it, and when I say run, run." Thomas is too serious, too stoic, too something that Newt can't name, but doesn't like. 

"What stupid thing are you planning Tommy?" Newt finds it hard to speak, mouth drying at the ever increasing anxiety the boy in front of him causes him.

"Give me five minutes to distract them," and before Newt can even open his mouth in protest Thomas holds a hand up, "I'm a runner, Newt, I'm not injured I'll be fine, I'll give them the good old run around and meet you on the roof in five minutes tops." 

"I'm not gonna fucking leave you Thomas, you idiot!" Newt would be screaming if he could, some how, whisper yelling doesn't quite hold the same appeal. 

"Don't you trust me?" Thomas asks, voice softening with each word.

"Of course I do, but this, this here is fucking insane Thomas, I'm not willing to risk your life like this, do you understand me?" Newt feels heat rush to his face, the mere idea of Thomas willing to risk his life like this is infuriating. 

Thomas grits his teeth, anger evident as he speaks through clenched teeth, "You're a fucking idiot Newt, hold onto the bag and let's go," and not even seconds later he feels Thomas yanking him from their hiding spot before they make a run for the door. He hears the cranks groan, as they rush towards their exit and his already racing heart goes into double time when he realizes how quickly they're catching up. 

His ankle aches, a shooting pain a constant reminder as he pushes forward. Tears burn his eyes, blurring his vision dangerously as his grip on Thomas' hand loosens, the sweat and grime on both their hands make it almost to slippery to hold onto one another. He feels his resolve weaken, his pace slowing as he all but gives in to the inevitable.

Before he knows what's happening Thomas is behind him, instead of leading him, hands pressing into his back, urging him to move faster. The door is right there, a few feet away from him, if he were to reach his arm out he'd be able to touch the door frame, and that's when he hears it. A quiet whispered, 'I'm sorry' coming from behind him as he's being pushed almost violently through the door. He rolls in time to see Thomas one final time, a sad smile gracing Thomas features as he watches the cranks wrap themselves around Thomas' body, before the door is closed shut. 

He sits there, listening to the screams of the boy he loves with one leather bag half full of gun ammunition.


End file.
